Itís Friday. But Sundayís comingó
Itís Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peterís denying that he knows the Lord. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. Itís Friday; but Sundayís a coming.
Itís Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, ďFather, forgive them.Ē Itís Friday; but Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God who will not abide with sin pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, ďMy God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?Ē What a horrible cry. But Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. And at the moment of Jesusí death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sundayís coming.
Itís Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But thatís because itís Friday, and they donít know it, but Sundayís a coming.
And on that horrible day 2000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday.
Now itís Sunday. And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasnít the only thing that was shaking because now itís Sunday. And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb. Yes, itís Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone and the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots because itís Sunday, and the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed.
Itís Sunday, and the crucified and resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin and the grave. Itís Sunday. And now everything has changed. Itís the age of grace, Godís grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because itís Sunday.